UC-NRLF 


B    3    315    317 


MUSTMFID 


GIFT  OF 
John  C.  Lynch 


BAYARD   TAILOR. 

A  Brief  Sketch  of  Mia    u  fe< 

Bayard  Taylor  was   born  near  Kennett 

SteP 


>md      h  ,'  aua,     u 

R525,  and   when   a  lad   was  apprenticed 
the  printing  business.    He   traveled  in  E£ 
rooe,  mostly  on  foot,  in  1844-6,  and  on  his 
return  published  an  account  of  his  trave 
Me  then  became  editor  of  a  paper  at  Phce- 
mxville  lor  one  year,  and  afterwards  a  co?- 
N±1V   *?  ypMterary    World  and  ?he 
-New  York   Tribune,  subsequently   becom 
ing  a  member  of  the  editorial  staff  of  £e 
huter,  and  also  a  stockholder  in   the  associ! 
on.    On   the   breaking  out  of  the  gold 
1SUe        ttl!ft)rui»»    returnin      i 


in 


KEur°Ue'    ^turning  S     In 

became  Secretary  of  Legation  at 
bt.  Peterebwi*.  and  in  1863  ChaWd'Af 
taires  there.  He  had  previously  ?  mlrried 
daughter  of  Professor  Hanseu,  the  d/sUn- 
guisned  German  astronomer.  Upon  h  s 
return  from  liussia,  in  1864,  Mr.  Taylor 
devoted  bimseif  to  writing  and  lecturu  i 
He  revisited  California,  and  made  a  some' 
wimt  protracted  stay  in  Colorado  andThe" 
region  once  known  as  the  Great  America, 
Desert,  in  1866-67.  la  1871,  wit  h  a  pirty 
ot  iriends,  he  traversed  the  route  of  he 
Aortnerii  Pacific  Kail  way,  making  an  ex! 
cursion  into  Manitoba.  In  Pebruan 


President  Hayes,  and  the  nomination 

:  u«»'»»u,ly     confined    bf    ihe ?  Senate. 

»r  to  his  departure  for  abroad  Mr  Tav- 

lor  was  tendered  a  number  of  receptions 

and      banquets,      and    upon    his    amval 

in  Germany  he  was  received  in  the  warn  es' 

manner    by    the    people    there,   to   whoai 

he  was   well   known   by   reputation.     M 

se-^^SJS&g 
«sa.rS£s«?aS 

ous  and  prolific  of  literary  men,  yet  eve  v 
thing  he  gave  to  the  public  was  characteV- 
d  by  artistic  finish.  He  occasional! v 
mingled  volumes  of  poetry  among  his  de^ 
bcnptive  works,  but  until  1863.  hid  never 


T/IYLi0I\ 


ILLUSTRA  TED. 


BOSTON: 
WILLIAM    F.    GILL    &    CO 

1877. 


COPYRIGHT,  1876,  BY 
WILLIAM    F.    GILL    &    CO 


EiACirotyptid   by 
SMITH  &  Mc^OUSAL. 


t><-»nzea   L-y 
FILMED  <&  CLASS. 


PUBLISHERS'    NOTE. 

THE  Memorial  Freedom  Poem,  which  may  be  fittingly 
termed  the  poem  of  the  centennial  year,  was  written  for  the 
celebration  of  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  birth  of 
American  Independence,  held  within  the  shadow  of  Indepen 
dence  Hall,  July  4th,  1876. 

Its  delivery  by  the  author  was  the  crowning  success  of 
the  memorable  exercises  of  this  eventful  day.  The  poem  has 
already  been  translated  into  several  different  languages,  and 
has  received  many  other  honors  rarely  bestowed. 

Its  picturesque  richness  and  variety  afforded  such  rare 
opportunities  for  the  artist's  pencil,  as  to  suggest  its  issue 
in  a  permanent  form,  in  the  holiday  attire  in  which  it  is 
now  produced. 


[The  engravings  are  by  JOHN  ANDREW  &  SON,  A.  BOBBETT,  JOHN  P.  DAVIS, 

J.  L.  LANGRIDGE,  J.  T.  SPEER,  JOHN  FILMER,  F.  JUEXGLING, 

and  RUSSELL  &  RICHARDSON.] 


LIBERTY'S  LATEST  DAUGHTER    .    .    .    . 

THE  NATIONAL  ODE 

VIGNETTE .    .  ' 

VIGNETTES  TO  NOTE 

VIGNETTE . 

HEAD-PIECE  TO  ILLUSTRATIONS  .    .    .    . 

HALF-TITLE  TO  POEM 

AMERICA,  EUROPE,  AND  ASIA     .    .    .    . 

VIGNETTE 

HEAD-PIECE  I 

THE  CLEFTS  OF  THE   ROCKS  (Half-title 
to  Verse  First 

VIGNETTE 

"  And  over  the  severing  ocean  "... 
"And  the  peace  of  the  vesper  skies"  . 
"  In  the  crash  of  woods  that  fall "  .  . 

"  When  the  lines  of  battle  broke, 
We  saw  her  face  in  the  fiery  smoke  "    . 


ARTIST.  PAGE 

MARY  A.  HALLOCK    .    .  Front. 

L.  S.  IPSEN Title. 

ROBERT  LEWIS  .    ,  Title. 


L.  S.  IPSEN 

ALFRED  FREDERICKS  .    . 

ROBERT  LEWIS 14 

L.  S.  IPSEN 15 

A.  R.  WAUD 15 

ROBERT  LEWIS 16 

T.  MORAN 17 

.     .- 18 

19 


ALFRED  FREDERICKS 


20 


Illustrations. 

ARTIST.  PAGE 

HEAD-PIECE  II L.  S.  IPSEN 21 

ASSUR'S  MOUND  (Half-title  to  Verse  Second]  A.   R.  WAUD 21 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 22 

"A  large  divinely-moulded  Fate 
Questions  the  rights  and  purposes  of 

a  State " ALFRED  FREDERICKS  ...     23 

"  From  all  unchronicled  and  silent  ages  "  F.  LANCELOT 24 

"  Till  history  dared,  at  last, 

To  write  eternal  words  on  granite 

pages" ALFRED  FREDERICKS  ...    25 

"  Imperial  heads,  in  ghostly  grandeur  rise, 
And  say,  through  stony  lips  and  vacant 

eyes " "  "  ...     26 

HEAD-PIECE  III L.  S.  IPSEN 27 

THE    RIVER -HEAD    (Half-title    to    Verse 

Third} A.   R.  WAUD 27 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 28 

"  On  the  shores  of  a  continent  cast "     .    T.   MORAN 29 

"  She  planted  homes  on  the  savage  sod  "  "         30 

"  She  drove  her  plowshare  deep "      .     .     ALFRED  FREDERICKS  .     .     .  -  30 

"  Where  the  flushed  Sierra,  snowy-starred, 
Her  way  to  the  sunset  barred  "  .     .     .     T.  MORAN 31 

"Where  the  haunted  waves  of  Asia  die 

On  the  strand  of  the  world -wide  sea"  ALFRED  FREDERICKS  ...     32 

HEAD-PIECE  IV L.  S.  IPSEN 33 

As  OVER  EARTH  THE  SKIES  (Half-title  to 

Verse  Fourth) A.   R.  WAUD 33 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 34 

"The  race,  in  conquering, 

Some  fierce  Titanic  joy  of  conquest 

knows" "  "         35 

THE  SHIELD  OF  LIBERTY  (Tail-piece).     .          "  "        36 

HEAD-PIECE  V L.  S.  IPSEN 37 

THE  CHOSEN  OF  HER  SEED  (Half-title  to 

Verse  Fifth) A.   R.   WAUD 37 


Illustrations. 

ARTIS  PAGE 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 38 

"  Foretold  when  the  martyrs  bled  "  .     .     ALFRED  FREDERICKS  ...     39 
"  As  the  sea  returns  the  rivers  in  rain  "     E.   WIMPERIS 40 

"  As  e'er  went  worldward  from  the  island 

wall " T.   MORAN 41 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 42 

HEAD-PIECE  VI L.  S.  IPSEN 43 

Bow  TO  THE  GREATER  (Half-title  to  Verse 

Sixth) A.  R.  WAUD 43 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 44 

"O'er  peril  conquered  and  strife  subdued"  "         45 

"  He  faileth  not  to  smite 
The  idle  ownership  of  right  "...     ALFRED  FREDERICKS  ...     46 

HEAD-PIECE  VII L.  S.  IPSEN 47 

BESIDE  THESE  HOLY  WALLS  (Half-title  to 

Verse  Seventh) A.   R.  WAUD 47 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS   ...         .48 

LIBERTY  AS  JUSTICE,  "  When  for  a  captive 

race 
She  grandly  staked  and  won "     .     .     ALFRED  FRFDERICKS  ...     49 

"The  people  saw  her  head, 
And  shouted  to  the  world  :  'The  King 

is  dead!'".     .- ROBERT  LEWIS 51 

VIGNETTE 52 

HEAD-PIECE  VIII L.  S.  IPSEN 53 

THE  PANTHEON  OF  THE  PAST  (Half-title 

to  Verse  Eighth} A.  R.  WAUD 53 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 54 

"Arise,  recrown  thy  head, 
Radiant  with  blessings  of  the  dead"  .     ALFRED  FREDERICKS  ...     55 

"  Beside  clear-hearted  right, 

That  smiles  at  Power's  uplifted  rod  " 

VIGNETTE  .  , 5s 


Illustrations. 


HEAD-PIECE  IX :    L.  S.  IPSEN 59 

THE  BRINKS  OF  DANGER  {Half-title  to  Verse 

Ninth]         A.  R.  WAUD 59 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 60 

"  And  dim  the  eyesight  grew 

That    was    so    sure    in    thine    old 

solitudes" T.  MORAN .  61 

HEAD-PIECE  X L.  S.  IPSEN 63 

BUT  FAIR  AS  MORNING  (Half-title  to  Verse 

Tenth} A.   R.   WAUD 63 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 64 

"Wearing  thy  priestly  tiar  on   Judah's 

hills " T.  MORAN 65 

"  Or  from  Rome's  central   seat "...  66 

"  No  more  a  Chieftainess  with  wampum- 
zone, 

And  feather-cinctured  brow".     .     .     A.  R.  WAUD 67 

TAIL-PIECE ROBERT  LEWIS    .....  68 

HEAD-PIECE  XI L.  S.  IFSEN 69 

THE  OAK  AND  THE  ROSE  (Half-title  to 

Verse  Eleventh] A.   R.  WAUD 69 

VIGNETTE ROBERT  LEWIS 70 

"  Look  up,  look  forth,  and  on  ''   .     .     .  ALFRED  FREDERICKS  ...  71 

"There's  light  in  the  dawning  sky"     .     T.   MORAN 72 

"But  keep  thy  garments  pure, 

Pluck  them  back  with  the  old  disdain"  MARY  A.  HALLOCK     ...  73 

VIGNETTE  (Emblem  of  Peace)    ....     ROBERT  LEWIS 74 


'•'i 


THE    NATIONAL    ODE. 

SUN   of  the   stately    Day, 
Let   Asia   into   the   shadow   drift, 
Let   Europe   bask   in   thy   ripened   ray, 
And   over   the  severing   ocean   lift 

A   brow   of  broader  splendor! 

Give   light   to   the   eager   eyes 
Of  the    Land    that   waits   to   behold   thee   rise 
The   gladness   of  morning   lend   her, 
With   the   triumph    of  noon   attend    her, 


The   National   Ode. 


And   the  peace   of  the   vesper   skies! 

For  lo !    she   cometh   now 

With   hope   on   the   lip   and   pride   on  the   brow, 
Stronger,   and   dearer,   and   fairer, 
To   smile   on   the  love   we   bear   her,— 
To   live,   as   we   dreamed   her   and   sought   her, 

Liberty's   latest   daughter ! 
In   the   clefts   of  the   rocks,   in   the   secret   places, 

18 


The   National   Ode. 


We   found   her   traces ; 
On   the   hills,   in   the   crash   of  woods   that   fall, 

We   heard   her   call; 
When   the   lines   of  battle   broke, 
We   saw    her   face   in   the   fiery   smoke ; 
Through   toil,    and    anguish,    and    desolation, 

We   followed,   and   found   her 
With   the   grace   of  a   virgin   Nation 
As   a   sacred   zone   around   her ! 


The   National   Ode. 

Who   shall   rejoice 
With   a   righteous   voice, 
Far-heard    through   the    ages,    if  not   she  ? 
For   the   menace   is   dumb   that   defied   her, 

The   doubt   is   dead   that   denied   her, 
And  she  stands  acknowledged,  and  strong  and  free 


AH,   hark !    the   solemn   undertone 
On   every   wind   of  human   story   blown. 
A  large,   divinely-moulded    Fate 


The  National   Ode. 

Questions   the   right   and   purpose   of  a   State, 

And    in   its   plan   sublime 
Our  eras   are   the   dust   of  Time. 
The   far-off  Yesterday   of  power 

Creeps   back   with    stealthy   feet, 
Invades   the   lordship    of  the   hour, 
And   at   our   banquet   takes   the   unbidden    seat. 


From   all  unchronicled   and   silent  ages 
Before  the   Future   first   begot   the   Past, 


H 


The   National   Ode. 


Till    History   dared,   at   last, 
To    write   eternal   words   on   granite   pages ; 
From    Egypt's   tawny   drift,   and   Assur's   mound, 
And    where,   uplifted   white   and   far, 
Earth   highest   yearns   to   meet   a   star, 
And    Man   his   manhood   by   the    Ganges   found, — 


The   National   Ode. 

Imperial   heads,    of  old    millennial   sway, 

And   still   by   some   pale   splendor   crowned, 
Chill   as   a   corpse-light   in   our   full-orbed   day, 

In   ghostly   grandeur   rise 

And   say,   through   stony   lips   and    vacant   eyes : 
"  Thou   that   assertest   freedom,    power   and   fame, 

Declare   to    us   thy   claim !  " 


1   - 


ON  the   shores   of  a   Continent   cast, 
She   won   the   inviolate   soil 

By   loss   of  heirdom   of  all   the    Past, 

And   faith   in   the   royal   right   of  Toil ! 

She   planted   homes   on   the   savage   sod : 
Into   the   wilderness   lone 
She   walked   writh   fearless   feet, 
In   her   hand   the   divining-rod, 
Till   the   veins   of  the   mountains   beat 

With   fire   of  metal   and   force   of  stone ! 


The   National   Ode. 


She   set   the   speed   of  the   river-head 
To  turn   the   mills   of  her  bread ; 


She   drove   her  plowshare   deep 
Through   the  prairie's  thousand-centuried  sleep; 


The   National   Ode. 


To   the   South,   and   West,   and    North, 
She   called    Pathfinder   forth, 
Her  faithful   and   sole   companion, 
Where  the  flushed  Sierra,  snowy-starred, 


Her  way  to  the  sunset 
barred, 


the  nameless  rivers 
in  thunder  and  foam 
Channeled    the   terrible 
canyon  ! 


The  National   Ode. 

Nor  paused,  till  her  uttermost  home 
Was  built,  in  the  smile  of  a  softer  sky 

And  the  glory  of  beauty  still  to  be, 
Where  the  haunted  waves  of  Asia  die 

On  the   strand   of  the   world-wide   sea ! 


33 


34 


THE   race,   in   conquering, 
Some   fierce   Titanic  joy   of  conquest   knows : 

Whether   in   veins    of  serf  or   king, 
Our   ancient   blood   beats    restless    in   repose. 

Challenge   of  Nature   unsubdued 
Awaits   not    Man's   defiant   answer   long ; 

For   hardship,   even   as   wrong, 
Provokes   the   level-eyed,   heroic   mood. 
This   for   herself  she   did ;    but   that   which   lies, 
As   over   earth   the   skies, 


35 


The  National   Ode. 

Blending   all   forms   in   one   benignant   glow, — 

Crowned   conscience,   tender   care, 
Justice,   that   answers   every   bondman's   prayer, 

Freedom   where    faith    may    lead    or   Thought    may 
dare, 

The   power   of  minds   that   know, 
Passion   of  hearts   that   feel, 
Purchased   by   blood   and   woe, 
Guarded   by   fire   and   steel,— 

Hath   she   secured  ?     What   blazon   on   her   shield, 
In   the   clear   Century's   light 
Shines   to   the   world   revealed, 

Declaring   nobler   triumph,    born   of  Right? 


THE  CHOSEN  OF  HER  SEED 


37 


FORESEEN  in  the   vision   of  sages, 
Foretold   when   martyrs   bled, 

She   was   born   of  the   longing   of  ages, 
By   the   truth   of  the   noble   dead 
And   the   faith   of  the   living   fed  ! 

No   blood   in   her   lightest   veins 

Frets   at   remembered   chains, 
Nor  shame   of  bondage   has   bowed   her  head. 

39 


The   National   Ode. 

In   her   form   and   features   still 
The   unblenching   Puritan   will, 
Cavalier   honor,    Huguenot   grace, 
The   Quaker  truth   and   sweetness, 
And   the   strength   of  the   danger-girdled   race 
Of  Holland,    blend   in   a   proud   completeness. 
From   the   homes   of  all,  where   her  being   began, 
She   took   what   she   gave   to   Man : 
Justice,   that   knew   no   station, 

Belief,   as   soul   decreed, 
Free   air   for   aspiration, 

Free   force   for   independent   deed ! 
She   takes,   but  to   give   again, 
As   the   sea   returns   the   rivers   in   rain ; 
And   gathers   the   chosen   of  her  seed 
From   the   hunted   of  every   crown   and   creed. 
Her   Germany   dwells   by   a   gentler   Rhine ; 
Her   Ireland   sees   the   old   sunburst   shine ; 
Her   France   pursues  some   dream   divine ; 


The   National    Ode. 


Her    Norway   keeps   his    mountain   pine ; 
Her   Italy   waits   by   the    western   brine ; 

And,   broad-based   under  all, 
Is   planted    England's   oaken-hearted   mood, 


The   National    Ode. 

As   rich   in   fortitude 
As   e'er   went   worldward   from   the   island-wall ! 

Fused   in   her   candid   light, 
To   one   strong   race   all   races   here   unite : 
Tongues   melt   in  hers,   hereditary   foemen 
Forget   their   sword   and   slogan,   kith   and   clan ; 
'Twas   glory,    once,   to   be   a   Roman ; 
She   makes   it   glory,   now,   to   be   a   Man ! 


BOW    TO    THE    GREA  TER.  I 


•..-. 


Bow   down  ! 
Doit  thine   aeonian   crown ! 

One   hour  forget 
The   glory,   and   recall   the   debt : 

Make   expiation, 

Of  humbler   mood, 
For  the   pride   of  thine   exultation 
O'er   peril   conquered   and   strife   subdued ! 
But   half  the  right   is   wrested 

When   victory   yields   her   prize, 
And    half  the   marrow   tested 

When   old   endurance   dies. 
In   the   sight   of  them   that   love   thee, 
Bow   to   the   Greater   above   thee! 

He   faileth   not   to   smite, 
The   idle   ownership   of  Right, 


The  National   Ode. 


Nor  spares  to   sinews   fresh   from   trial 
And   virtue   schooled   in   long   denial, 
The   tests  that   wait  for  thee 
In  larger  perils   of  prosperity. 

Here,   at  the   Century's   awful  shrine, 
Bow   to   thy   Fathers'   God— and   thine! 


BEHOLD  !    she  bendeth  now, 
Humbling  the   chaplet  of  her  hundred   years : 
There  is   a  solemn   sweetness   on   her  brow, 


The  National   Ode. 

And   in   her  eyes  are   sacred   tears. 

Can   she   forget, 

In  present  joy,   the   burden   of  her   debt, 
When   for  a   captive   race 
She   grandly   staked   and    won 
The   total   promise   of  her   power   begun, 

And   bared   her   bosom's   grace 
To   the   sharp   wound   that   inly   tortures   yet? 

Can   she   forget 
The   million   graves   her   young   devotion   set, 

The   hands   that   clasp   above 
From   either   side,   in   sad,   returning   love  ? 

Can   she   forget, 
Here,   where   the   Ruler  of  to-day, 

The   Citizen   of  to-morrow, 
And   equal   thousands  to   rejoice   and   pray 

Beside   these   holy   walls   are   met, 
Her   birth-cry,   mixed   of  keenest   bliss   and   sorrow? 
Where,   on   July's   immortal   morn 
Held   forth,   the    People   saw    her   head 

5° 


The   National    Ode. 


And   shouted   to   the   world :    "  The   King  is   dead, 

But  lo !    the   Heir  is   born ! " 
When  fire   of  Youth,   and   sober  trust   of  Age, 
In   Farmer,    Soldier,    Priest,   and   Sage, 

Arose   and   cast   upon   her 
Baptismal   garments, — never   robes   so   fair 

Clad   prince   in   Old-world   air, — 
Their  lives,  their  fortunes,  and   their   sacred   honor ! 


53 


/  ^ 


ARISE  !    Recrown  thy   head, 
Radiant   with   blessing   of  the   Dead ! 


35 


The   National   Ode. 

Bear   from   this   halloAved   place 
The   prayer  that   purifies   thy   lips, 
The   light   of  courage   that   denes   eclipse, 
The   rose   of  Man's   new   morning   on   thy   face  ! 

Let   no   iconoclast 
Invade   thy   rising    Pantheon   of  the    Past, 

To   make   a   blank   where  Adams   stood, 
To   touch   the   Father's   sheathed   and   sacred   blade, 
Spoil   crowns   on   Jefferson   and    Franklin   laid, 
Or  wash  from  Freedom's  feet  the  stain  of  Lincoln's 
blood  ! 
Hearken,   as   from   that  haunted   hall 

Their  voices   call : 
"  We   lived   and   died   for  thee : 
We   greatly   dared   that   thou   might'st  be ; 
So,   from   thy   children   still 

« 

We   claim  denials    which   at   last   fulfill, 

And   freedom   yielded   to   preserve   thee   free ! 

Beside   clear-hearted    Right 
That   smiles   at   Power's   uplifted   rod, 

56 


The   National   Ode. 


Plant   Duties   that   requite, 
And   Order   that   sustains,   upon   thy   sod, 

And   stand   in   stainless   might 
Above   all   self,   and   only   less   than   God ! " 


57 


6o 


HERE   may   thy   solemn   challenge   end, 
All-proving    Past,   and   each    discordance   die 


Of  doubtful   augury, 
Or   in   one   choral   with   the    Present    blend, 


61 


The   National   Ode. 

And   that   half-heard,   sweet   harmony 
Of  something   nobler   that   our   sons   may   see  ! 

Though   poignant   memories    burn 
Of  days   that   were,   and    may   again   return. 
When   thy   fleet   foot,   O    Huntress   of  the   Woods, 
The   slippery   brinks   of  danger   knew, 

And   dim   the   eyesight  grew 
That   was   so   sure   in   thine   old   solitudes, — 

Yet   stays   some   richer  sense 
Won   from   the   mixture   of  thine   elements, 

To   guide   the   vagrant   scheme, 
And   winnow   truth   from   each   conflicting   dream ! 

Yet   in   thy   blood   shall   live 
Some   force   unspent,   some   essence   primitive,   ' 
To   seize   the   highest  use   of  things  ; 
For   Fate,   to   mold   thee   to   her   plan, 

Denied   thee   food   of  kings, 
Withheld   the   udder   and   the   orchard-fruits, 

Fed   thee   with   savage   roots, 
And  forced  thy  harsher  milk  from  barren  breasts  of  man ! 


O   SACRED   Woman-Form, 
Of  the   first  people's   need   and   passion   wrought,- 

No   thin,  pale  ghost  of  Thought, 
But  fair  as   Morning  and   as   heart's-blood  warm,- 
Wearing  thy   priestly   tiar   on   Judah's   hills ; 
Clear-eyed   beneath   Athene's   helm   of  gold  ; 

Or  from   Rome's   central   seat 
Hearing  the   pulses   of  the  Continents   beat 

65 


The   National   Ode. 

In   thunder  where   her  legions   rolled ; 
Compact  of  high   heroic   hearts   and   wills, 

Whose   being  circles  all 
The   selfless   aims   of  men,   and   all   fulfills ; 
Thyself  not   free,   so   long   as   one   is   thrall ; 


Goddess,   that  as   a   Nation   lives, 

And   as   a   Nation  dies, 
That   for  her   children   as   a   man   defies, 
And   to   her   children   as   a   mother   gives, — 

Take   our  fresh   fealty   now  ! 


The   National   Ode. 

No   more   a   Chieftainess,    with   wampum-zone 
And   feather-cinctured   brow, — 


No   more   a   new    Britannia,   grown 
To   spread   an   equal   banner   to   the   breeze, 

67 


The  National   Ode. 

And   lift  thy   trident   o'er  the   double   seas ; 

But   with   unborrowed   crest, 
In  thine   own   native   beauty   dressed,— 
The   front   of  pure   command,   the   unflinching1  eye, 
thine  own  ! 


*, 

ir 


THE    OAK  AND    THE    ROSE.         'j 


7o 


LOOK  up,   look  forth,   and   on ! 
There's   light   in   the    dawning   sky : 
The   clouds   are   parting,   the   night   is   gone 


The   National   Ode. 

Prepare   for  the   work   of  the   day 
Fallow   thy   pastures   lie 
And   far  thy  shepherds   stray, 
And   the   fields   of   thy   vast   domain 
Are   waiting   for   purer   seed 


Of  knowledge,   desire,   and   deed, 
For  keener   sunshine   and   mellower  rain ! 

But   keep   thy     garments   pure : 
Pluck  them   back,   with   the   old   disdain, 

From   touch   of  the   hands   that  stain  ! 


The  National   Ode. 


g&\ 

•^•afvJJfl    ,     —       •     jj 


So  shall  thy   strength   endure. 
Transmute   into  good  the   gold   of  Gain, 
Compel  to   beauty  thy   ruder  powers, 


73 


The   National   Ode. 

Till   the   bounty   of  coming   hours 
Shall   plant,   on   thy   fields   apart, 

With   the   oak   of   Toil,   the   rose   of  Art ! 
Be   watchful,   and   keep   us   so : 
Be   strong,   and   fear   no   foe : 
Be  just,   and   the    world   shall   know ! 

With   the   same   love   love   us,   as   we   give ; 
And   the   day   shall   never   come, 
That   finds   us   weak   or   dumb 
To  join   and   smite   and   cry 

In  the  great  task,   for  thee   to   die, 

And   the   greater  task,   for  thee   to   live. 


74 


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